Deadly Dance
by TheSlytherinMuggle
Summary: I'll follow you where the only thing I have is nothing. I will go, if only you follow. Two immortals fighting forever, maybe at the end of the world peace can be found. DMHP COMPLETE


Harry Potter stood tall, his shoulders naked, the clothes ripped off by the remnants of curses. A dragon proudly shone, curving around his shoulders and neck, going down to his arms and the tail reaching down to his legs. Its shimmering coat was painted silver and green, the scales were tinged red with a hint of purple. The eyes were an emerald green on one eye and the other a blue gray. On top of the dragon was a crown made of skulls, the eye sockets each filled with a gem. Sparkling and alluring; drawing you in, hypnotizing you. A deadly dragon, on a deadly man.

This man had been though enough wars and used only three weapons: his magic, his sword and his heart. His magic was beyond any other's, glowing around him, dancing a deadly tango, luring the other magic's in, stealing its power and grasping the colors. Then claiming its owner and returning to its master. Master, as called by the magic and sword, was indulging in the colors around him, the blue, green, purple, red, purple, pink, jade, orange, and many other hues of power.

His sword was made of the strongest metal mixed with his blood and the blood of his completed. It was an old sword, bathed in blood of many enemies, many innocents of evil and many souls that didn't deserve the fate. For, once the sword touched the skin of its target, if the Master wished, the person wouldn't die but be tortured until dead and even then they wouldn't get the satisfaction of true death, only the satisfaction of brimstone and fires, of hell. In times of battles, this was the only thing Master wished on his enemies. If his friends were ever touched by the sword then they were named enemies to the Master and sent to hell or heaven, depending on the traitor and their position. The sword, to Master, was a curse and his burden so he kept it, and used it in the battles so that all deaths were his fault and his only.

His heart was the only pure thing about him; it beat steady and with every beat pumped blood to rush him into his battles. And with the organ came the figurative heart. It shone a bright white whenever his magic pulsed, as it was doing now. It loved freely but had barriers so thick that only few people got through, and even then they didn't see him. What they saw was the hardened man who lost and dreaded the fights he had to win, a man whose heart was shining so white that he wished it was black. He wished it to as black as his nightmares. Those few people who chipped the barrier an inch or two would see a smirk but never a smile, saw a knife twirled but never the blood between the handle and fingers.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stood proud, his shoulders were clothed but his arms were bare. The scars of previous battles shone proudly. A snake was drawn onto his arm. The scales a deadly Avada Kedavra green with black scales outlined. The body curling around his torso and then the tail on the other arm, curling and swirling. The eyes were an evil black, with green and blue mixed in. Almost like a swirl. On top of the snake was a crown, made out of the outlines of humans, their bodies speared through. Around the people was a red glow, shining brightly almost consuming the people. Dead people on a dead man. 

This man needed only two weapons: his magic and his black heart. Through many wars he used his magic, used it against innocents of the lighted dark, of the dark and of the gray. The blood of innocents of war and carnage was on his hands, over his head and on his body. He could sometimes say that he was covered in blood and would lick it off his lips, savoring the way it dripped down his sharpened teeth. Sometimes he would temp his opponent with it and he could see the wavering faith in his own hunger, but he stood proud and tall, as he did now. So Draco just licked it off his fingers as well and waited for the charge of white magic and retaliated with his own magic. Fighting forever.

His black heart was aged and old; it was merely dust on a pedestal. The actual organ didn't exist anymore; it had died out long ago. The figurative thing was always a spiral of black ash, slowly gaining control and sometimes failing. The heart was the only thing he kept to himself, his walls were tough but he let some through. He was free with his heart because he had betrayed and didn't know what it felt like; he enjoyed causing the pain, enjoyed the agonizing faces and laughed in mockery every time they begged. His laughter was no longer warm or cold, it was just there. An echo of what once was, what once held anger, sadness, hate, love, curiosity, kindness, and music; but now it was empty, empty and black.

* * *

"So, Draco, is this what we will always come down to?" 

Harry asked quietly, his sword in ready position, shining with white magic, sharp and ready to attack. Draco stood a few feet off, his stance just as ready, his magic forming spears and arrows behind him, as his own army prepared to attack. Harry's army was just as read.

"What ever do you mean, Harry?"

Draco asked mockingly, his voice still as hollow. Harry observed him, observed his stance and his black eyes. Observed how the magic around him flew, how it yearned to connect again but was afraid of the anger.

"Will our lives always be like this, two immortals fighting to the death that will never happen, will we always be causing chaos within the walls of our country, our army's living forever, caught in our web?"

Harry said, his voice soft and sad but at the same time strong and fierce. Draco, too, observed him. His voice had changed, it was never loud, it was emotionless and the same time gave an effect of something strong. He observed how his sword was ready, how the magic circled it, empowering it, hardening it and making it glow. He observed how the magic obeyed Harry but wanted to be let free, to mingle with his, to meet and connect again, like it had centuries ago.

"It has been like this Harry, and it shall forever be like this, as long as we live, as long as our hearts choose to let us live, as long our webs stay strong, then this war shall be let loose. Over and over again, dearest."

Harry hissed at the name, his eyes still remained cold and untouched. His grip on the sword loosened and he stood straight, he lifted his arm and halted his army. Letting his magic loose he let it glide over to Draco's. Draco let his magic free, black and white clashed, surrounding each other, dancing together, playing and humming.

"What heart, love? You heart is as dead as mine is contained. Centuries ago you decided our fate, decided to bury this foreign love, this feeling that you so much enjoyed and feared."

Harry murmured quietly, his voice carrying around the battlefield. Both armies stood still, watching their leaders. This was something new to them, they had wars in their past but this type of verbal war was new, something completely encouraging.

"You led me to my death once, pet; you led me to fight your monster. I fought him and I won. I won for you, for us. And then… you became your own monster; I fought you too, remember. I don't think you would, it was so long ago. So many hundred years ago. We were already immortal by then and I was still naïve, believing it wasn't by choice you became this, you do remember, don't you, love? I know you remember, I can see it in the way your body shifts, and I can see how your magic is reacting to mine. See how black and white mix, how together they create gray. But you knew this already, didn't you, dragon? You and your army knew this; you knew that we would always be fighting against each other."

Harry continued, his body releasing more magic, slightly overpowering the blackness, creating a lighter shade of gray. Draco stared at his lost lover, how his shoulders were still baring the beautiful dragon. Whose crown seemed to wink at him, and how his own snake's crown seemed to dance in response. Dancing a deadly tango.

"Ah, but you knew this as well, didn't you, my snake. You've always known, as has your army. We've always known our fates were to fight forever. Yes, I led you to fight Voldemort and yes I became him, but I was naïve too, remember. I wanted you to join and we could rule together, but you chose to rule against me. Because you knew, you knew we could never rule together. No matter how much love we had, you were always light and I was always dark. Isn't that right, dear?"

The battlefield was quiet, the sound of wands being held tightly could he heard as the wind carried slightly. Blowing their hair around, circling around the magic, creating a small whirlwind around the two pillars of the war. Their eyes met and they stared. Each easily breaking through barriers, looking deep into the souls and each seeing darkness and light. Seeing the bright soul and dark heart, seeing the columns and columns of magic, coiled and coiled around a single string of lies.

"That may be true, Draco, but what is our purpose? Why do we fight, no one ever wins and no one ever looses. There are no standstills, no truces. Why do we fight?"

Everyone stared at the two figures, both standing still, wind and magic swirling around them. Creating glowing figures and growing aches. Both were hurting, both were aching for the other. Old love was brought back; barriers fell and crashed into the dirt. Magic seeped freely from them, as their eyes glowed. White and black. Dark and light.

"Because, love-ling, it's the only thing we can do. Without it, we couldn't survive. It's the only time where we see each other and can yell and scream and be primitive about what we feel. That's why we fight, and that's why we will fight."

Both made a ready position for their armies and charged; spells flying, knives being thrown. The two pillars met in the middle, sword and magic clashing. Obeying their masters again. No blood was spilt, no tears fell. All that was heard was screaming and yelling and the clash of powers so strong, that the fates were scared.

"If that's why we fight, can we not end it as well?"

Harry whispered as their swords met in a cross, their faces inches apart. Draco brutally kissed Harry, who responded with long passion renewed, their swords prevented them from going further and the let go, battling again. Around them the battle was still going strong, none were falling, none were dieing. They all wondered what was the point of this war, no one won, no one lost. They followed their leader but _why_? Neither side knew why, but each wanted it to end, and each was willing to live longer to see it happen.

"To end this, we would have to go to the ends of the earth. To the depths of the ocean where even sharks fear to tread. To where the darkest wizard is afraid of the light. To where the world is flat and not round, where our lives will no longer matter but what we do with them. Would you will yourself to follow me there, to the end of world?"

Draco said as their swords met in a cross again, his voice whispered. They met in a kiss again, just as brutal and just as passion filled. Their eyes were closed tightly, savoring the one thing they could share for eternity. Their swords slid farther down and let their kiss deepen, but the clash of other swords brought them back and they fought once again.

"I would follow you to where the world is flat, where the darkest day is darker then night. Where the only thing I have is nothing. Where I have to find you and save you, I will go. If only you follow."

Was whispered as they met again, swords fell down and hands reached around the other. Savoring the warmth and familiarity. Their tongues battled until each needed air, deep breathes were taken and plunged again. The battle had seemed to stop, the armies watching their leaders.

"To the end of the earth it is then, love."

Was whispered softly and maybe, just maybe, the end of the world was where peace was.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed another one-shot, I just came back from Pirates of Caribian (yes I know I spelled that wrong):At Worlds End, and this came to me. The dialouge is based more on the first movie though, if you watched it then you would remember what Jack and Barbossa talked about when they were fighting on Isle Demersa (spelled wrong too, I know). I tried to give hints as to how Draco and Harry were imortal, as were his armies, although that one was harder. They were all vampires, if you read carefully you could see some hints I dropped. Please, as always, R&R.**

**Warmest regards, **

**TheSlytherinMuggle**


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